Dawn of the Dragon Slayer
by Magical Popcorn
Summary: The Age of Dragons is such a romantic idea, isn't it? Dylen doesn't think so. But as the war between dragons near the peak of their climax, it's time for the young mage to learn just what it means to journey through this era of romance and adventure.
1. 400 years

The resounding thunder of every roar, the searing heat of their breaths, and teeth that could crush even steel… These were dragons.

Dylen watched the beasts from the window. It was time for their weekly offerings, a pack that the village had made with the creatures in order to maintain a somewhat peaceful existence. So long as the quota was met, the dragons would leave them be and protect them from any others that would do them harm. All in all, it was a good deal.

Well, there was no point in just gawking through the window all day. There was work to do after all. Jumping from his bed, the teen rushed downstairs and out the door. The sun shone bright that morning, complimenting the blue sky as several clouds brushed over the wooden houses that lined the town. The sound of beating wings rustled in the distance, and looking to the horizon he could see that the dragons had apparently finished their rounds, taking their leave.

"Did you hear?" said one of the neighbors chatting to another. "The war may be ending soon!"

_The war…_ Dylen left to the streets with said gossip in mind. It had been a while since dragons started fighting among each other, supposedly over the fate of humanity. _Yeah right._ No matter who won this stupid war, humans would still be nothing more than livestock waiting to be eaten. Even in this village that supposedly had humans co-existing with dragons, the fact that these dragons still ruled over them didn't change.

_The Carrot_ wasn't that big a store, but it was one of the only few that the villagers relied upon for their daily foods and supplies. Walking in and past a few shelves, a middle-aged man with dark hair and mustache stood there to greet him with a doubting frown. "You're late, Dylen."

"Sorry dad," the boy ran a nervous hand through his already messy hair. "But the dragons were here! Didn't you see them?!"

The older man huffed, turning around as he walked back behind the counter. "They come every month, don't see what's all the hubabaloo… " He pulled up a sealed box, and with a wave of his hand it lifted off of the counter and floated gently beside his son. "Here, the farmers need some more sheers, so get to it."

"Old man Ringken, again?" Dylan took the box in hand, grunting as the enchantment faded and its weight returned. "What does the geezer need with all these knives anyway? Didn't he just get a new shipment last month?"

"It's best not to question what Ringken does on his spare time. Now go."

"Fiiine," he sighed, and turning around he made for the streets once more. The farms were a bit outside of the village, and walking there would definitely take too much time. But like his dad who was able to earlier lift the box without his hands, Dylan too, was a mage. "Let's do this."

Blue light gathered around his feet, and like a rocket he fired away towards the nearest exit. _Gods it felt good to run like this! _Houses and people passed by like blurs, and he could have sworn that someone had shouted at him for his lack of regard, but still he continued to run. He ran until the houses were lost to open fields, and soon enough crops of corn and wheat could be seen alongside several barns and cattle. Old man Ringken's house was only a bit more away, and upon arriving the light from his feet faded as he paused to catch his breath. With box in hand, he walked up and knocked on the door.

"Mr. Ringken? It's Dlyen, I have a delivery for you?"

_No reply. _

After a moment waiting, he knocked again.

_Still nothing._

"Mr. Ringken?" Several more knocks, and reaching for the doorknob, to his surprise the door was unlocked."Mr. Ringken, I'm coming in!"

No, this was a bad idea. He should just leave the package at the door and leave. There was no obligation to actually see the old man, and for all he knew he may have just been stuck on the toilet doing old man stuff. But still there was an odd feeling that he couldn't shake, and with a deep breath in to calm his nerves, he wandered further into the silent house.

"Mr. Ringken?" His shoes creaked with every step upon the wooden floor. The empty corridors staring back with an eerie echo. _Was his house always this big?_ "Mr. Ringken, are you in here?!" He expected the old man to come shouting at any moment, berate him for trespassing and then send him home with a scowl. But still, _nothing_.

"What are you doing?"

Dylen froze. That wasn't the voice of an old man. No, far from it. Slowly looking up, there on the second floor balcony looked down a girl with light pink hair.

"I… Hi…. I have a package for the old man, Mr. Ringken?" he eyed the girl with caution. _Hadn't Ringken always lived alone? _"You wouldn't happen to know where he is, would you?"

"Oh, the old man?" She grinned mischievously, leaning over the rails. "I ate him."


	2. Dragon Vs Dragons

How anyone was supposed to take this kind of situation was well beyond Dylen. He simply just stared, brown eyes locked on the pick-haired girl that had apparently eaten the old man of the house. There were no words he could think of to reply, no witty retort or even a question to throw in hopes of an answer. A moment further of silence, and finally the girl started to laugh.

"Eyahahaha!" she cackled, "You didn't actually believe that did you? There are limits to naivety you know?"

"What's all the racket out here?" shouted a familiar growl, and shortly joining the girl at the balcony was, to Dylen's not so silent relief, Mr. Ringken in all his gruff and stubborn glory in tact.

* * *

Kitchenware klinked and klanked in the kitchen, Dylen sitting awkwardly at the table across from the strange girl as Ringken worked to make some late breakfast to the side.

"So?" said the teen, leaning forward to rest on a propped arm. "How much longer am I going to have to wait before you guys tell me what's going on here?" The din to the side stopped, Ringken bringing to the table three bowls of what appeared to be oatmeal.

"There's not much more to say," muttered the old man, placing a bowl before each of them. "I already told ya, the girl here came knocking on my door last night, bleeding a hole through her side before falling at my step." Now that he mentioned it, Dylen could see a hint of rough bandaging peaking out from under the girl's clothes. "I patched her up, and then turned in myself. Next thin' I knew, you was screamin' inside my house like some banshee."

"Yep, that's pretty much it," said the girl, rocking restlessly in her seat. "Thanks a lot old man, you really saved me!" She smiled, oddly energetic for someone who had supposedly collapsed from injury the night before.

"It's not 'old man,' it's Yaidric Ringken," replied the geezer. He propped an elbow and his back to the counter, bowl in one hand and spoon. "The boy over there's Dyle- ,"

"Dylen," he corrected.

"So, how 'bout we have your name eh?"

"Rmn Rgnrenl," she answered, mouth full as she crammed it down like she hadn't eaten in days.

"Dammit girl, swallow before you talk!"

There was a loud gulp as she swallowed, followed by a large tremor that shook the ground. From his position, Ringken with his cereal fell to the floor. In contrast, Dylen and the girl had shot to their feet, and together they ran to the door.

"What in blazes?!" shouted the old man, picking himself up and following behind the younglings.

There outside, lay the form of a massive beast, whose form Dylen recognized right away. "One of the dragons from the village…" he whispered. On cue a wailing roar ripped through the air, and from the clouds fell another like a descending star. "Oh no… MOVE! BACK INSIDE!"

The slamming of the door could barely be heard as the second dragon fell to earth, sending dust and debris flying about the shaking earth. Scrambling in haste to the nearby window, the two managed to look outside just in time to see a third dragon fall to join its comrades in a crater.

"What… Someone tell me what the blazes is going on out there?!" Ringken had finally managed to catch up to the kids, and following their gaze out the window, his jaw dropped like a rock. "Oh shi- !"

From the heavens descended a fourth dragon, twice as large as the ones on the ground. But unlike its smaller kin, instead of falling, it flew. Each of its crimson wings was large enough to blot out the sun with every flap, its body so massive that it rivaled the rustic house in which they hid.

"Stay put you two," Ringken whispered, and reaching under his couch he pulled out a crossbow and a quiver of arrows. Opening the door he stepped out before the titan, barely visible to its eyes under its cast shadow. Despite what his age may have suggested, his voice still boomed loudly, even enough for the Dylen and the girl inside to hear. "What do you want, dragon?! We already gave our tribute!"

The beast with its long neck paused at the sudden voice, and looking down, a low growl thundered from the back of its throat. "Do I look like one of these human-sympathizing weaklings to you?" With one foot it stomped on the throat of one of the fallen dragons. "You insult me, insect."

Ringken notched an arrow to his weapon, aiming with confidence at his foe's head. "We have nothing hear for you. With all respect I must ask you to leave."

Several rumbles of thunder came from the dragon, that which Dylen could only assume was it laughing. "You say that, yet you point that toy in my direction?" His foot stomped again, near rupturing the fallen dragon's throat. "Know your place, insect! I had come upon hearing of these traitors… disgustingly harboring you like creatures equal of standing-," Its speech was interrupted by an arrow, bouncing harmlessly off the ridge of its brow. "Foolishness."

Arching its neck, intensely hot air gathered inside its throat like a vacuum. There was nothing that the old man could do. Knowing full well that whatever he did was but a futile last effort, Ringken fell back to the ground. His legs shook, his mind faltered. Here he would die, unable to protect the two children that would watch his demise from inside. He closed his eyes as the dragon lurched forward, spewing a tunnel of fire that even before leaving its mouth he could feel its agonizing heat.

But death never came. Instead the heat had begun to disappear. Upon opening his eyes, the bright flames were actually being siphoned out from their initial trajectory! Before long both fire and heat had completely vanished, and all that stood between him was the girl that should have been with Dylen behind the window. She stood, glaring up with focused eyes, a white scarf wrapped around her neck.

"Ho…" said the dragon, standing tall in response to its new foe. "Pink hair and a white scarf… I did not expect to meet the infamous Salamander all the way out here."

"I'm Igneel," she said, punching a fist into her palm. "Thanks for the meal."


End file.
